


Operation Destroy The Small Fucking Bastard

by halseys



Category: Motorcycling RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-08-28 01:23:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 13,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8425255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halseys/pseuds/halseys
Summary: Valentino Rossi recruits Jorge Lorenzo to help him and work together to take down Marc Marquez, but it's not going to be as easy as Rossi hopes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> These two are my ultimate loves, and this idea has been in my mind forever, and I've written bits and pieces for it for the past six months and now I'm just finally trying to piece it all together and fill in the blanks! this is just the set up chapter really! Feedback is appreciated xx

"I'm not sure about this," Jorge bites down on his bottom lip, flicking through the compiled pieces of paper that had landed in his lap only a week ago. Operation DTSFB ( _Destroy The Small Fucking Bastard - Valentino made up the name_ ) was going to start today. He couldn't help the nerves that twisted in his stomach as he attempted to get himself familiar with the plans which were explained in the papers before him.

Jorge wonders if this may be the only time he and Valentino would work together properly as a team, and this task was a bloody big one at that. It was common knowledge in the paddock and beyond that Valentino wanted to take Marc down; yes Vale didn't like Jorge but the Italian _hated_ Marc and he figured his teammate wasn't a huge fan of the Honda rider either so this once he made a plan for them to work together.

Valentino had everything worked out it seemed. It was up to Jorge to infiltrate the system. Apparently, Jorge was the perfect guy for the job, as he and Marc had been getting along fairly well in front of the press and he could make a genuine friendship blossom with their mutual dislike of Vale himself. Also, Jorge would do anything to win and that included taking down his biggest rival, so he was in.

Valentino had said he needed Jorge's help as he was 'sneaky'... or 'cunning' was the politer term he used (which the Spaniard was still not too sure if it was a compliment or an insult.)

"You've agreed to it now. No backing out." Valentino spoke up, his accent thick as he spoke. It took Jorge's attention away from the papers in his hands; his grinding voice always sent a shiver down Jorge's spine,

“This is needs to stay between me and you.” Jorge just nods, and rolls his eyes behind Vale's back; he wasn't exactly going to broadcast it to the whole paddock was he.

"There are a few ground rules we need to make,” Rossi begins, “he probably won't make this easy – he might think you're playing a game or his stupid brother might get involved and try to question your intentions. Never let your guard down. We do not discuss the operation in the vicinity of the target, we do everything we can to keep this between us. You must never give yourself – or any of us away.” He spoke seriously, as if he were about to cross the frontline.

 “So, the rule of Undercover Club, is to not talk about Undercover Club.” Jorge grins at his own joke, but swallows it down, once he see’s Vale's mouth set into a frown, "Jeez, this isn't some war, it's just messing around with Marc's head and getting his data. Not difficult." He promises, laughing at the situation in front of him. Vale gives him a nod of approval so he must have been convincing enough.

The younger Yamaha rider couldn’t help but feel a little nervous about what he was getting himself into but he could do it. Marquez would be easy to crack.

* * *

Stage one was simple. Get closer to Marc. The papers Valentino had presented to him contained a lot of information about Marc to help Jorge become closer friends with the Honda rider. It told him the other mans favourite beer, books and perfumes, plus lots of other little facts the average fan wouldn't know about the older Marquez brother. Jorge was a little curious how Vale had even managed to get this information but doesn't doubt Vale could probably dig out everyone's dirty secrets if he so desired.

Jorge pulled out all the stops on the first race weekend in Qatar, he'd managed to get the seat beside Marc at the press conference and as it dragged on and he and Marc had spoken, he'd draw Marc into their own private conversation, he'd make the younger boy laugh which strangely was something Jorge was pretty good at. He'd purchased Marc's favourite perfume and had almost blushed when Marc took a long sniff of him as they'd sat together before he'd complimented him on his scent. Once the press conference had ended he made sure to keep close to Marc, placing his hand around his waist and squeezing a little at his side as the cameramen took their pictures.

After qualifying he'd grabbed Marc into a hug, celebrating his own pole position, Marc starting just one position behind. Marc smiled and hugged back. Jorge sent him a pack of his favourite beers as a congratulations.

Once the race had finished Jorge, who had won, gave the boy another hug and a pat on his helmet with a grin. Marc returned the smile, the wattage of his own grin ten times the smile of Jorge's. It was nice being on the receiving end of a Marquez smile. Jorge sometimes thought if you could bag up the Marquez charm, you could earn yourself a lot of money.

* * *

Stage two was a little harder. Once he'd found Marc's phone number (via Valentino's 'Marc Marquez handbook') it had taken him a few days after the race to think up something to say. Jorge felt as if he were fourteen again and texting the girl he really fancied from school.

Jorge: _Hey, it's Jorge Lorenzo. Good race last Sunday. How is your shoulder now?_

Jorge breathed out a sigh. It was casual and a good conversation starter, he'd seen Marc fall during free practice and grab his shoulder, then mumble a little about the pain at the press conference after the race, so it was an obvious starter question.

Marc: _thanks 'Jorge Lorenzo', don't know that many Jorge's ya know ;) shoulder is good, won't stop me beating you next week jajajaja_

Jorge smirked, he could imagine the 'jajajaja' of the Marquez laugh through the phone.

* * *

Jorge calling...

Marc hummed, confusion taking over as he looked at his phone, so first texting him and now he's calling him? He slides the phone to 'answer'.

"Hello?"

"Hola Marc."

"You're calling me?"

"I am, it's easier to talk than text," Jorge scoffs, "did you not beat me last weekend because you drunk the beers I sent you the night before?" He laughs.

"You sent me those?" Marc furrows his forehead, remembering the pack turning up on the doorstep of his motorhome and Alex joking they were from a secret admirer.

"Yeah, you didn't see the note?"

"No, I didn't.. Why did you send me those?"

"To congratulate you," Jorge shrugs, "you liked them?"

"They're my favourite," Marc sighs, "you send all your competitors their favourite beers do you? Look if you're trying to mess with me-"

"I'm not!" Jorge promises, "I just want us to set this year off on good standings, is that okay?"

"Sure.. That would be nice actually, after last year.. You know." Marc sighs, and runs a hand over his face, "it was tough, and I'd like a restart."

"Me too, Marc." Jorge smiles, "I'll see you in Argentina." He tells the younger man before the line goes dead, leaving Marc to stare at his phone, wondering if the conversation had even happened at all.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey. Is Marc here?” Jorge feels a little nervous, under Alex Marquez's gaze. So maybe he wasn't too surprised at that reaction as he'd been fighting Marc pretty hard over the race and he admits, possibly could have resulted in the Honda rider ending up in the gravel trap. He groaned, not only did he have to face little brother but then try to get himself alone with Marc. 

"He's busy.” Alex explains.

 “Oh.” and with that Jorge doesn’t really know what he is suppose to do. So, he just turns to leave. 

"Wait." Marc appears from behind his brother at the doorway of his motorhome, "Fancy a beer?” Marc is grinning at him, and holding out a bottle. He supposes one couldn’t hurt, so he slides past the younger Marquez who scowls at him at takes the beer from Marc. Jorge responds with a smirk. "See you later Alex?" Marc gives his brother a look before he disappears off on his own and then Marc's full attention is on Jorge, and under his intense stare, it makes him feel a little intimidated.

"Whatcha doing here?" Marc asks, his eyes narrowing at the older man.

"I was going to apologise for pushing you a bit far today," Jorge confesses, he wasn't really that sorry but he intended to stay in Marc's good books, "it was a bit too much, I should have backed off." Marc looks surprised before breaking into his signature smile.

"Are you kidding? The day that you back off when there is a chance to win, I'd probably fall off my bike in shock!" He howls. Jorge smiles at the boy, his demeanour seeming younger than his twenty there years, "what are you really doing here?"

"I dunno. I just thought maybe it would be nice for us to be more than just civil... Maybe, friends?"

"Friends, huh?" Marc hums, "I didn't think riders had friends they share a track with?"

"You're friends with Dani, no? And you used to be friends with Valentino..." Jorge almost regrets bringing up the Italian rider as Marc's smile slips a little at the mention of his name.

"Yes, I guess Dani and I are friendly, but not friends. Valentino.. That was different. He was someone I looked up to for advice, I wanted us to be friends but I don't think we were really." Marc shakes his head at the thought, and ponders for a minute at why he was telling Jorge Lorenzo this.

"I think friends can be good, everyone needs support. I think Vale thought you were friends." Jorge tells him honestly, placing a soft hand on his forearm. Marc glances at it but doesn't move away from the comfort.

"I don't think you treat friends the way he treated me. Anyway, wasn't the whole problem the fact that he thought that you and I were friends in the first place so if we were then that would just give him more ammunition, no?"

"Fuck what Valentino thinks." Marc snorts at the comment, "I already spoke to him about his crazy attitude at the end of last year. Maybe we should just be friends as a fuck you to Vale." Jorge laughs.

"What are you suggesting.. you and me just sit here having beers and playing FIFA like pals?" Marc raises his eyebrows in question, wondering how they could actually be friends.

"Why not?" And Jorge is breaking out in a grin; Marc thinks this smile makes him look a look more approachable, and frankly, kind of sweet. The Yamaha rider grabs the two controllers off the table in front of him and passes one to Marc, making the choice his. Marc smiles and takes the controller.

"I'm playing as Barca!" He laughs.

* * *

 “Jorge,” his name rolls off Marc's tongue before he swigs back his beer, “Tell me stuff about you? If we're gonna be friends I have to know you right?"

"There isn’t much to tell.” Jorge tries to sound confident but his voice fails him, as it comes out a little shaky, curious about how far he'll go in his investigating. 

“I bet there is. How about I’ll ask you questions?” Marc suggests. 

"Only if you answer them too.” Jorge demands, obviously beginning to feel brave. 

“Okay, you’re on." Marc sets down his controller and turns himself to face Jorge, "what are you parents like?" ...And awful first question.  

“Can we pass that one? I think I need to be much drunker to discuss my parents." Jorge speaks honestly, picking at the label on his now fourth beer bottle.

"Right. Sorry. Let's go easy." Marc smiles encouragingly, "what's your favourite colour?"

"That's what you're going for? Are you five?" Jorge laughs,

"It's blue. Yours?"

"Red, obviously... Okay, no discussion of parents but any siblings?"

 “I have a sister, Laura. I always wanted brothers, but now I guess I have my team, and they’re all like my brothers now." Jorge smiles, and Marc can’t help the look of endearment that is probably gracing his expression. He remember this is not what the Honda rider had expected when he'd first met Jorge. He always expected a cold, heartless piece of shit that only cared about bikes, hot girls and money, but that’s not Jorge at all, he didn’t expect him to be so – soft. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Marc brings himself back to reality, and shrugs; a blush making its way up his neck to his cheeks. Jorge just narrows his eyebrows a little in confusion, but shakes it off.

"You obviously know about my brother." Marc smiles at even the mention of his brother, Jorge can tell they value each other over everything else.

"Next question... Why do you always try to start drama in the press? You make people not like you." Okay, straight for the jugular. As Marc asks his voice was in more of a whisper than a confident tone, obviously a little shy at asking such a direct question. Jorge sighs.

"I'm not a rider to make people like me. I ride because I like winning and I'm good at it. You're there, you know it's not always me, but Valentino pushes me too far and makes me angry. But of course Valentino never does anything wrong because he is legendary and if you got up against him in public, they'll always take his side." Jorge gulps, telling himself the honesty was down to the multiple beers he's now consumed, and not because talking to Marc is kind of .. comfortable.

It turns out playing these questions was a good idea after all. Beers and four games of FIFA later and Jorge feels so damn chilled out around Marc, it almost feels as if they’re real friends. The realisation that they’re not immediately sobers Jorge up, and brown eyes meet his and he can't help but take another sip of his beer to swallow down some of the guilt he was feeling. 


	3. Chapter 3

"Second to me again," Marc smirks, "this might be becoming a habit."

"You just wait," Jorge laughs.

"We've played three games of FIFA tonight and I've won every single one," Marc boasts, "and I won that too!" The Honda rider teases, pointing at his first place trophy.

"You're so cocky," Jorge grins, shaking his head jokingly.

"Competitive is the word you're looking for!"

"Sore winner, actually!"

"You're a sore loser," Marc sticks his tongue out, like an actual five year old which makes Jorge snort, resulting in them both in fits of giggles,

"I'm just gonna pop to the bathroom." He smiles, leaving Jorge alone. The Yamaha rider glances over at the countertop, he noticed the various papers on it, titled 'Jerez' - the data for the next race - when he'd come in but hadn't had an opportunity to search through them yet. He hops up from his seat, grabbing his phone from his pocket, deciding he didn't have time to process the data right now so he'd have to take photos to look at later.

He snaps the ones that look familiar, the ones with the data information that he could decode later, photographing any information he could find. He hears the bathroom door opening and turns around, grabbing a glass from the side and turning on the tap as if he were just getting a glass of water.

"Another game?" Marc asks, hopefully. Jorge glances at his watch, noticing it had just gone past midnight.

"I should probably head to bed, I've got an early flight home tomorrow." Jorge explains, not missing the disappointed look washing over Marc's face.

"Okay, no worries." His face reverting back to his usual grin.

"Rematch in Jerez? And I won't come second next time," Jorge laughs, pushing at Marc's side.

"I'll see you then. I'll be ready!"

* * *

"So, you still came second," Marc turns up on the doorstep of Jorge's motorhome, champagne in his hand, "but at least it wasn't to me." Marc smiled gently, Jorge noted this was the first time Marc had approached him, come to him to seek friendship.

"Can we postpone the rematch? I'm not in the mood." Jorge grumbled, he'd wanted the win today, not to come second and definitely not to come second to Valentino; that was always an extra kick in the teeth.

"Maybe we could just talk...?"

"Don't you have people to celebrate your third place with?"

"I spent races where I won with you, like a third place means I go to the party?" Marc scoffs.

"Right," Jorge huffs, obviously not going to get rid of the boy tonight, "best come in then," he opens the door wider to allow him in. Marc makes himself comfortable on Jorge's sofa, resting the bottle of champagne he'd brought on the table.

"Are you cooking dinner?" Marc observes as Jorge patters around the small kitchen.

"Yes. Are you hungry?"

"Is there enough for me?"

"It's chicken and pasta, there is always enough," he smiles, pouring more pasta into the boiling pan.

"Thanks!" Jorge gives him a smile, but it's one of those that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "are you mad because it was Valentino that beat you?"

"Of course, it always hurts when you're teammate beats you," Jorge huffs, "maybe you should ask Dani about it sometime." He snaps.

"I know how it feels to lose." Marc protests, "you came second though, what's so terrible?"

"You don't have Rossi as a teammate, you wouldn't understand."

"You mean I don't know how it feels for him to be completely against you? to have everyone hate on you because of what he says? To constantly fight but you'll never compare to him in some people's eyes? Because I think I do." Marc growls. Jorge feels a wave of guilt at that, of course Marc knows how that feels.

"I'm sorry," he sighs, "this is why I didn't want to let you in, because I knew I would just start a fight."

"It's okay," Marc mumbles, the wounds of last year obviously still fresh, "this is why we make good friends, huh?" Marc scoffs.

* * *

"This is really good, thank you," Marc chows down on the food Jorge cooked for him. Jorge laughs as he watches the boy getting sauce all over his face and down his chin, but he still looked handsome.

"Why don't you have a girlfriend?" Jorge asks, he had been curious as Marc was obviously gorgeous and a millionaire, so why has he never seen a girl around him?

 “I don't- um, I don't.. want one.” Marc scratches his neck, slight embarrassed.

"They're nothing but trouble, eh?"

"The girl... Last year, when you won the championship? I haven't seen her around." Jorge grimaces at the mention of her.

"She broke up with me."

"Oh sorry." Marc cringes.

"It's okay," He mumbles, "I'm getting over it. So what is your type, eh?” Jorge asks, changing the subject. Marc gave him a look, wondering why Jorge wanted to know, or even cared what his type was like.  

“Um, dark hair I guess? Pretty eyes.. A nice smile," Marc blushes, "and usually they have a penis.” And the younger man was definitely a bright shade of pink now, he had no idea why he felt okay with telling Jorge this.

 “You’re gay?” Jorge raised his eyebrows, clearly shocked at his confession. Shit. Marc should not have opened his big mouth.

 “Yeah, I am.” Marc looks down at his hands, a bit shy to look at Jorge, afraid of what he might see. He’d had to come out many times in his life, and every time it was still hard, not knowing what the reaction may be, "please don't use it against me," Marc speaks in a quiet voice.

 “It's cool. It's not like I haven't dabbled," Jorge tells him, sincerely and he pats the younger man on his arm in attempt of comfort. "Are you thinking mediums or hards for tomorrow?” And just like that it was dropped, and Marc felt a weight off his shoulders.


	4. Chapter 4

Jorge: _Fancy a run of the track?_

Marc _: When?_

Jorge: _In twenty minutes?_

Marc: _See you at the start line!!_

"You know everything is a competition to me right?" Marc teases.

"That's why I invited you, knew it would damage your ego when I beat you on the run."

"Mm, try it!" Marc laughs and starts running before Jorge is ready, gaining a head start.

"That's cheating!" Jorge shouts chasing the younger boy. They only sprit for a few minutes before slowing into a jog so they can talk.

"That doesn't count."

"Sorry old man."

"Old? I'm only five years older than you!" Jorge pushes him softly.

"Yeah. Old." He mocks with a massive grin on his face.

"Pfft! Vale is old, not me."

"Okay, okay, I didn't mean to damage your ego." Marc winks, before starting to jog backwards so he could look at Jorge as they speak, "100 euros that I win tomorrow?" Marc cocks his eyebrow.

"100 euros that I do?"

"You're so on!"

"You'd have to catch me to beat me!" The Honda rider starts running faster again, leaving Jorge to catch him up.

* * *

"100 euros please!" Jorge boasts as he strides into Marc's motorhome.

"Okay, a deal is a deal!" Marc laughs, getting out his wallet and passing him 100 euros.

"Nice doing business with you!" Jorge mocks.

"I'll get it back next race."

"Love to see you try!" The blue eyed man sits beside him, grinning as he basks in his victory.

"Seriously though, congratulations."

"Thank you."

* * *

 “I should probably get going.” Jorge tells him, but Marc just pouts.  

"Can I just ask you something first?" Marc puts his hand on Jorge's thigh to stop him getting up, and gives a little squeeze, and damn if that makes Jorge feel giddy all over.

 “What is it?” Jorge asks, sitting back into the sofa. 

"Do you think I'm attractive?” Jorge bites down on his bottom lip. He weighs up his options before going with honesty, uncertain about what that question was leading to. Marc's gaze feels intense against his and he can see the Honda riders eyes drifting to his lips.

"Where is this coming from?"

"Just answer the question."

"Of course. Everyone does." Jorge can barely finish his sentence before lips are attaching onto his in a soft kiss. Marc pushes Jorge down, onto his back, and climbs on top of him, as he pulls his legs up and wraps them around his hips,

“I think you are too,” Marc breathes into his ear, “I've wanted you for months,” he confesses before bringing his lips to Jorge's neck, leaving a trail up to his mouth, “Come to bed with me?” Marc whispers, pressing his hands against bare skin underneath Jorge's shirt as he attempts to slide it up. Jorge freezes beneath Marc's touch.

 “I- I can’t do this.” the older man pushes Marc off and grabs his jacket, running out of Marc's motorhome and back to his own as fast as he could.


	5. Chapter 5

It takes Jorge at least an hour before he can fall asleep on his return to his motorhome. His mind is racing with thoughts of Marc, his lips, his touch, how much he wanted him, but couldn’t have him. Just as he was about to drift off, a buzz radiated from his phone beside him.

Marc: _Sorry if I moved too fast or scared you off tonight. Its just that I like you Jorge, a lot... I just hoped you liked me too._

And God damn, Jorge can’t find the words to reply to that.

* * *  

“Hey Jorge.” Marc sends him a soft smile, as he takes a seat in the safety meeting beside him, typical they had to be the first ones to arrive.

 “Hey,” Jorge smiles awkwardly, glancing around for any sign of the other riders making their way in, hoping for someone lighthearted like Cal to lift the tension in the room. Jorge wasn't too picky though, anyone would do. He didn’t feel too comfortable being alone with Marc after last night, he desperately wanted to reach out and touch him, grab his hand, stroke his cheek, anything. Marc just shrugs at him, clearly a little disappointed at the lack of response and plays with his hands in his lap.

 “Did you get my text last night?” Jorge watches as Marc bites down on his bottom lip, and he fiddles with his own hands in his lap. 

"Mm, yeah..” Jorge sighs, “I’m sorry I didn’t reply, I just.. needed to think. It's a lot to deal with."

 “I know, I get it, you know I do..."

"I do too though, I mean, I like you too." He whispers.

"You do?" Marc grins, "We can go slow as you like.” Marc promises, and why the hell did he have to be so adorable, Jorge wished him to be an arsehole so he didn’t have to deal with the butterflies that are fluttering in his stomach anymore. The brown haired boy holds his hand out for Jorge to take, which he hesitantly does, and gets pulled closer to the boy.

Jorge can feel his heartbeat racing, telling himself it's the danger of being caught like this with another rider, not because of the other rider himself. Marc's hands find his way to his face, and the pads of his fingertips ghost over Jorge's lips, as his face turns into a fond expression. Marc gives a quick glance around the room. Before Jorge can register lips pressing his, they’re kissing. It's only a chaste kiss but Jorge would be lying if he said Marc didn’t taste lovely.

* * *

 Valentino is weird with him the moment he enters the room (weirder than normal). The Italians expression is pulled into a frown, and his lips are set straight; his gaze is set completely on Jorge. Jorge can see Vale's future teammate Maverick watching the other man with narrowed eyebrows, clearly puzzled at his attitude as well.

 “Vale?,” Maverick's places his hand on Valentino's forearm, distracting the mans attention from Jorge, “are you okay?” 

“Yeah, fine, just need to talk to Jorge.” With that he gets up from his seat, and practically drags Jorge out of the room, and into one of the side rooms. Leaving a trail of very confused riders looking after them. It’s quiet at first, Valentino just seems to stare at him for a while, before finally speaking up.

 “Jorge, you're a genius.” Vale finally speaks, a grin spreading into his face as if a lightbulb had gone off in his head. 

“What?” Jorge replies, confused, biting down on his bottom lip, it wasn't often he'd hear that out of the Italians mouth. 

“I saw the kid kiss you in the meeting room earlier! It's perfect, such a good plan,” Valentino claps his hands together, almost in excitement. Jorge sighs, running his fingers though his hair, 

“Just keep it quiet, okay?” Jorge hisses back. 

“This is so wonderful. Once everyone finds out the boy is gay-"

"No! You can't tell anyone." Jorge narrows his eyes at his teammate, "you cannot out him, how would you explain how you knew? You'd screw me over too and I'm not allowing that." He bites. Valentino sighs dramatically.

"We'll figure it out," he encourages, Jorge just rolls his eyes.

"You would never do that, Vale. No matter what I think of you, you'd never do that to somebody."

"You're right, but you "dating" it could work well.. you need to be more careful though, anyone could have seen you two, you're lucky it was me."

"I know," Jorge growls, "you need to be more careful too."

"Why is that?" Vale questions.

 “For starters, I thought we weren’t supposed to talk about this in the vicinity of them, and look how you just pulled me out that room? Not suspicious at all!" Jorge quips, sarcastically, "now I'm going to have to explain that to Marc!" The younger Yamaha rider was starting to feel defensive, as if he would really allow Valentino to tell him how to live his own life. Their agreement was on equal grounds.

"Okay, sorry. Sorry!" Valentino holds his hands up in apology, "have you got his data yet for tomorrow?"

"I'll get it tonight, don't worry. C'mon, we'd better get back before people get suspicious." Jorge huffs and leads Valentino back to the meeting room, pretending not to notice the very curious look on Marc's face.

* * *

"What was that with you and Vale earlier?" Marc questions, "he practically dragged you out that room."

"You don't need to worry," Jorge promises, but Marc just pouts and gives him puppy dog eyes.

"Please tell me? If we're gonna give this a go, shouldn't be be honest?"

"Okay, he.. Um," Jorge felt nervous, knowing the words that he was going to say, he'd planned it, if Marc had asked, "he saw us kiss, he knows." Marc's eyes widen at the revelation.

"What!? No!" He shouts, panicked.

"He's not going to say anything," Jorge speaks softly, calming Marc down.

"How do you know that!? He hates me." Jorge grabs Marc's hands and holds onto them to keep him still.

"I've known Valentino many years, he's a complete asshole, but he would never ever out anybody." He comforts.

"Even us?"

"He would never. I promise." Marc nods, and leans into Jorge, feeling comfort in his embrace.

"Okay. Would you want to sleep here tonight?"

"The night before the race? I don't think that's a good idea."

"Just to sleep?"

"Okay, I'll stay."

* * *

Jorge watched the sleeping man for a moment, his chest rising and falling slowly. They'd spent the last half an hour before sleeping just lazily kissing and talking about insignificant things, it'd been nice, but that wasn't what Jorge was here for. He pushes the covers back and quietly gets out of Marc's bed, making his way to the living room. Jorge slid open the set of draws by the side of the couch, smiling as he found what he was looking for. Marc was too predictable sometimes.

He grabs his phone from the side of the table, photographing the sheets, and texting them off to Vale before climbing back into bed with Marc. The younger man snuggled into him, putting his arm around his waist and Jorge gives him a kiss on his forehead before settling into sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

“Why are the press such fucking assholes! I won the race and all they can say is nasty things!" Jorge snarls, and Marc flinches slightly at his tone, “Marc,” the black haired man breathes out his name in a softer tone, suddenly aware he may have scared Marc, though his name sounds like heaven rolling off Jorge's tongue. “You don't think I'm a bad guy?” Jorge is avoiding Marc's eyes, only glancing down at his hands which rest in his lap. 

"No. Not at all,” Marc promises, “you’re good, you can't help being angry when people are always critiquing you,” he rests his hand on Jorge's forearm, “everyone respects you.” Jorge snorts at the comment.

 “They don’t respect me at all, they’re all just fucking scared of me,” he glances up to meet blue eyes, “you aren't scared of me though, are you?”

 “I'm only afraid of you beating me on the track.” And that was the truth. Marc had no reason to be worried; he thought right now Jorge was on his side. 

“I’m so glad,” a smile sets on Jorge's face, before he places a quick gentle kiss on Marc's jaw line.

“I am a little scared you’re going to hurt me off the track though.” The atmosphere in the room changes, and suddenly the situation feels heavier than before. Marc's face lingers at Jorge's neck, and he can feel the younger boy’s breath on his skin, before a few more kisses find their way on Jorge's neck, and nibbles at the soft flesh.

"Why?"

"Because we're dating, I like you and I'm putting my trust into you that you won't hurt me."

"I won't hurt you, Marc." he whimpers, Jorge can’t help but let out a little gasp at the contact, he’d almost forgotten how good the sensation of being kissed feels. Marc seems to take the gasp as an invitation as soon Jorge feels lips brush against his own and a tongue pushing into his mouth. He could feel himself getting hard in his jeans just from the kisses Marc was currently giving him.

Marc's hand drifts down, his fingers palming at Jorge through his jeans, as he leaves wet marks on his neck. 

“Jorge,” he whines, “Can I?” Jorge just nods in response, turning his brain off, and just enjoying the touches the boy was giving him. He feels his jeans being unbuttoned, and pulled down to his ankles, before Marc peels Jorge's shirt from his back, placing his lips on the flesh of his chest, nipping at the skin to leave love bites that would remind Jorge of this moment for a few days to come.

He kisses the inside skin of Jorge's thighs, teasing his rival, and making him squirm as he feels his warm breath between his thighs. Marc teasingly pulls down his boxers, taking a look at his hard cock before licking the tip, and wrapping his hand around the bottom of his shaft, and his pink lips around the top. The sight is probably enough to make Jorge cum, but he doesn’t, not wanting to embarrass himself. He was a twenty eight year old man, and here Marc was making him feel like he was sixteen and getting his first blowjob all over again.

Jorge finds that Marc likes to make a show of sucking him off, he can hear the wet noises, and can feel the back of the other boy’s throat, yet his brown eyes stay locked on Jorge the entire time. It’s a miracle Jorge had managed not to cum already. With another suck, Jorge cums in Marc's mouth, and his head is spinning, as Marc swallows him down. 

“You taste amazing,” Marc smirks, as Jorge looks down at him shyly, suddenly aware of how completely undone he because of the boys sweet wet mouth. Jorge couldn’t help but just feel fond of the other man; he was so sweet, he could barely comprehend how Marc would want to be involved with him at all. Jorge pushes himself up, and grabs onto Marc's belt, preparing to return the favour, but Marc stops his hands, grabbing him by his wrists. 

“Wait,” he pants, brown eyes searching for something in Jorge's blue orbs. 

"What is it?” Jorge's expression turns to worry, as if his brain has just turned back on, and it feels as if Marc had fucking figured everything out by the way he’s looking at him. 

"Are you sure?” He questions, seemingly turning nervous under Jorge's glare, as he bites down on his lips, “I definitely won’t last long, I’ve been thinking about you too much.”

 “Yeah, I’m sure.” Jorge places a kiss on Marc's neck to assure him, “Never been so fucking sure of anything.” Marc's grip on his wrists loosens, as Jorge flips them so he’s straddled on top of Marc, and he grips his hands on his hips as he grinds up and down on his lap causing unholy moans to drip from Marc's lips. Before he knows it, Marc is coming in his boxers, and the unpleasant feeling of a wet sticky patch around his cock. Jorge pouts.

 “I didn’t even get to suck you off.” He smirks, teasing.

 “Next time. You won the race, you deserve the reward.” Marc winked, he couldn’t even feel embarrassed, riding bikes for a living was advertised as easy money and a lot of people to fuck, but in reality it was fucking hard work, and hardly anyone he could get into bed with – the friction, and desperation of real human contact was definitely something Marc had missed. “I better clean myself up. Are you going to stay the night again? "

“Do you want me to?” 

“Yeah, I really do.” He smiles softly, still in a state of bliss.

 “Okay, I’ll stay.” Jorge grins back at the handsome man,

"I'll go clear myself up..." Jor get nods, as Marc makes his way to the bathroom.

Jorge is distracted by a couple of pictures stacked against the wall as he makes his way to the bedroom; a couple of them are fan art. There is only one photograph and it’s sitting on his bedside cabinet – its Alex, and Marc, they look about 14 and 17 respectively with their arms wrapped around each other and grinning. Jorge can’t help but wonder why this is the only photograph the boy has.

 “He’s my best friend.” Marc appears behind him, wearing sweatpants and no shirt, “Sometimes I think he is my only true friend.” 

“He’s lucky to have you.”

 “I’m lucky to have him,” Marc scoffs, but sounds completely sincere.

 “You’re lucky to have each other.” Jorge points out, “I’m hoping he won’t be your only friend for much longer.” He confesses, but feels shy after it slips out, like he didn’t mean to say it at all. 

"I think we’re a bit more than friends,” The dark haired boy confesses, “I mean I’ve never let any of my other friends cum in my mouth so-” Jorge slaps his chest at the comment, a red tint coming to his cheeks. Marc lets out a soft yawn, “Come on, I’m tired, we can spoon.” He grins, pulling the boy over to his bed by grabbing his hand, and laying him down before stealing a quick kiss, and settling his head on Jorge's chest.

“I like you a lot Jorge.”

 “I like you too.” And he wasn’t lying and that fact made him feel a little sick.


	7. Chapter 7

Marc: _woooo! congratulations my champion, you beat me this time ;) celebrate later? I've missed you this weekend! xxx_

Jorge smiles at his phone, excited to see Marc alone which he hadn't been able to do all weekend while in Mugello.

"You're acting different," Alex Rins notices as he sits with Jorge, eating their dinner.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, you're happy. It's weird." He jokes.

"Of course I'm happy, I won Valentino's home race and he didn't finish, what's not to be happy about?"

"No, you're happy, like you have a twinkle in your eye. Like you did when you met Nuria."

"Don't." Jorge snaps.

"It's a look of love, so.. Who is it?"

"No-one." He grumbles.

"You can tell me, I won't say anything. Is it a guy? Is that why? I told you I don't mind who you put your dick into."

"Thanks for that! Yes, it is and I'm not telling you in case he doesn't want you knowing."

"So it's another rider?" And that pips Rin's interest, "if they might not want me to know, they've got to have something to protect."

"Stop it."

"So, Moto3 riders are a bit young for you.. Maybe a Moto2 rider? But I don't know if any of them are gay but balance of probabilities at least one must be... Maybe MotoGP?" Alex looks up in shock, "not Vale?"

"As if!"

"Pedrosa?"

"No."

"The Espargaro's?"

"Neither."

"Cal?" Rins winks, "English charm!" Jorge bursts out laughing at the idea of him and Cal, never in a million years.

"No!"

"I've got it!" He grins, "it's obvious. It's Marc." Jorge freezes for a moment, then plays it off but he can see Alex has already taken the pause as a yes.

"What do you mean, it's obvious?"

"He's the best looking one, you always pick the best. That's why your friends with me!" Alex smirks, patting his friend on the back, "good effort. How'd that happen?"

"We were friends and it just grew from there..."

"Is this why you've been a little less, grumpy? Argumentative? .. Rude?"

"Haha." Jorge quips sarcastically, "I'm trying to be good for him." He admits, though he doesn't know where that came from, it was a sub conscious thought that came to the fore front of his mind.

"It's good. I like it."

* * *

"It's so good to see you," Marc whispers, as they lie intertwined in bed, his hand stroking through Jorge's hair, "it's getting hard to see you around and not want to grab you. You look more gorgeous everytime I see you."

"I can't believe you think I'm gorgeous."

"Why?" Marc laughs.

"Because have you looked in the mirror, you could be with anyone yet you chose to be with me?"

"It's not just about your looks, although I like those too, especially this smile," Marc leans and presses a quick kiss to his lips, "we like the same things, we have the same job so we can see each other a lot and you make me laugh."

"Please continue..." Jorge quips, and Marc lets out a laugh.

"See? And I wouldn't risk it if I didn't think you were worth it." Jorge nods, smiling wide and he pulls Marc closer, slipping his tongue into the younger mans mouth, relishing the soft moans slipping from his lips. He straddles the Honda rider, appreciating the warmth beneath him. Marc grabs his ass, pushing their hips together before starting to slide his hands down the back of Jorge's jeans.

"Maybe not yet?" Jorge pushes away.

"Sure... Sorry." Marc blushes.

"Don't apologise. I want you, I do, but maybe not in the back of a motorhome, maybe we could go somewhere nice?"

"I'd like that, a lot."

"Maybe after Catalunya, you can visit me?"

"In Switzerland?"

"Yeah."

"Yes, yes." Marc grins, trapping Jorge's lips in another kiss.

* * *

"Jorge!"

"What do you want Vale?"

"The data you sent me yesterday, it was completely wrong!"

"They must have changed the set up last minute," Jorge lies, he'd actually text Vale completely made up data, he'd begun to feel too guilty at hurting Marc, so instead he'd keep Vale happy by sending false information, keep him thinking he was doing his end of the deal when he wasn't.

"What does it matter, your engine failed."

"It's all valuable!"

"I did my part, it's not my fault they changed it. Now leave me be." Jorge groans.

"Where are you going? Got some cock to suck? Or is Marc the one that gets on his knees?" Vale laughs. Jorge growls and pushes the older man.

"Don't speak to me like that."

"I was just teasing."

"It's not funny." Jorge frowns, giving his teammate a disgusted look before walking away.

* * *

"Well done, bro! Pole position in Catalunya!" Alex high fives his older brother, grinning as he sits beside him on the sofa.

"Thanks! I'm feeling good for tomorrow." Marc smiles, before being distracted by his phone ringing on the table.

_Jorge Lorenzo calling..._

Marc looks at Alex but the younger boy as already seen the caller ID.

"Why is Jorge calling you?"

"I was going to tell you..."

"Tell me what?"

"We're friends now... Well more than friends actually."

"What?" Alex's jaw drops.

"We're kind of, together."

"No you're not! He's messing with you!"

"We like each other!"

"you're being ridiculous, he's just using you to get inside your head!" Alex gritted his teeth.

"Why would he risk it getting out that he is gay if he was just messing with me?"

"A few kisses can be explained away Marc. Have you slept together?"

"No, not yet.. But that doesn't mean anything."

"It means he probably won't mind kissing another guy but going further? He'll freak. He's just playing you." Marc furrows his forehead, thinking about the time he'd tried to make a move on Jorge but the Yamaha rider had pushed him away, the promise of wanting to go somewhere nice maybe just a decoy. Marc started to feel his stomach twisting.

"I don't think so, the way he talks to me, the things he's told me..."

"Are you sure they're all true?"

"I don't know..."

"You don't know him and you're allowing him to know all of you. Don't let him Marc, seriously." Alex pleads. Marc begins to doubt himself, the only person that could get to him like this was Alex. Maybe he was right.

"Maybe Jorge is a bad guy." Marc frowns, though he'd told him he wasn't, he'd begun to realise maybe this was a game to Jorge.

 “You do think I’m a bad guy?” A voice mumbles behind him. Marc turns his head to see Jorge standing there, a broken look taking over the expression on his face, fingers intertwined in front of him as he keeps his eyes on the floor. 

“How long have you been standing there?” Marc looks worried, no, actually he looks fucking scared.

 “I was trying so hard to be good for you, to be someone you'd want to be with, and why did I bother?" Jorge's expression looks hurt. His words feeling completely true as he spoke them, he'd wondered when in the whole situation he'd become so invested in Marc that those words actually hurt.

Before a reply could even be formed in Marc's mouth, Jorge had already turned his back and rushed out the door to his motorhome. Marc just ran his hand over his face in frustration, a sigh escaping his lips. He turns to Alex, and gives him a look, which Alex thinks must translate to ’fuck, that was not suppose to happen’, before deciding to chase after the Spanish man, shouting his name.


	8. Chapter 8

"Jorge, wait!" Marc catches up to him, grabbing his arm and pulling him down the side of the motorhomes, away from prying eyes.

"What, Marc? Why would you wanna be with a bad guy." Jorge spits.

"I didn't mean that, Alex was confusing me, making me doubt your intentions, I'm sorry. I know you're good, you're good to me." Marc sighs, stepping forward to lean his head in the crook of Jorge's neck.

"If you're doubting it, then why are we together?"

"I'm not! It was just for one moment."

"Are you sure? Do you trust me?"

"I trust you. Completely. Can I come back to your motorhome for a bit?"

"Of course."

* * *

Soft kisses trail along Marc neck as he lets out a little moan, and the pads of Jorge's fingertips trace along his arm, trailing across his his body hand making patterns on the Honda riders stomach where his shirt has risen up.

“You're gonna have to stop," Marc whines, softly, “Alex is gonna be looking for me.”

 “You’d better be quick then.” Jorge breathes out, smirking. "I haven’t been able to touch in a long time.” He pouts, fingers moving down to the inside of Marc's thigh, making his breathing shake.  

“You were at that monster party with all those girls… I bet you’ve touched plenty.” Marc challenges, trying to confirm if they are completely exclusive.

 “No one but you, I'm loyal." Jorge promises, "besides you moan the best, and you kiss the best.” he states, before licking his lips and sliding his hands into Marc's boxers, feeling the precum already dripping for him, he smirks. "He won't find us here." He runs his thumb softly against the head of Marc's cock.

"I've missed you.” he confesses.

"Me too." Marc promises, nudging his face into the crook of Jorge's neck, "I like this side of you. Needy."

"It feels like I've been waiting for a long time to see you again," Jorge kisses and nibbles at Marc's ear, before whispering “Don’t tease. Not now.” He begs. Marc pushes him back, so he is lying on the bed, with Marc straddling him. Marc grinds his hips onto him. Jorge lets out a whimper, pushing his hips up to create more friction.

“God, you’re great.” He moans as Marc smirks, he places wet kisses on his stomach and chest. Marc moves his hands up to squeeze the other riders ass, biting down in his lip as he can feel him hard underneath him. His hands sneak now his body, undoing his jeans and pulling his boxers down with them. Marc smiles innocently at him as his kisses his inner thighs, sucking lightly, and leaving small marks, red against the creamy coloured skin.

 “Beg me," Marc states slowly, drawing out his words. “Beg me to suck you off.”  

“Please, fucking please.” he breathes heavy. "I need you." He slowly, teasingly, wraps his mouth around him, keeping his eyes on him as he sucks, he watches the younger man too, putting his hands in his hair as he moans Marc's name. Marc takes his mouth off him, finishing with his hand as he pull him in for another kiss, and Jorge bites down on Marc's bottom lip, trying to keep in the harsh breathing as he comes in Marc's hand. His eyes stay locked on brown eyes as he leisurely licks Jorge's cum off his hand.

“You’re too hot.” Jorge speaks in a low voice.

 “Only for you.” Marc promises, pressing his lips onto Jorge's neck, occasionally nipping at it, wanting to leave his mark. 

“Everyone will ask me where I got these marks from." Jorge warns.

"I don't care." Marc laughs. Jogre turns them over so Marc is underneath him, holding him down on the bed by his hips. He opens Marc's legs with his hand, running his hands along the sensitive supple skin of Marc's inner thighs.

"Turn over." Jorge whispers, "and get on all fours." Marc does as he's told, happy to follow instruction. Jorge hits a light slap across Marc's ass, before kissing the red mark better. He slips his finger into Marc, who let out a light gasp at the sensation, arching his back, swallowing down his surprise as the finger is exchanged for his tongue.

"Fuck," Marc moans, as his tongue goes deeper, "Jorge..." His name slips from Marc's mouth and Jorge loves the way it sounds rolling off his lips, "I thought we were waiting." He breathes out. Jorge pulls off him, returning with two fingers to stretch him.

"I can stop?" Jorge teases.

"No, no! Don't stop." He moans, writhing beneath the older man, as he slips a third finger in, "come on, I can take it." Jorge does as he's told, reaching across and rolling a condom on, before slipping himself inside Marc, not missing the wince from the other man.

"Are you okay?" Jorge asks.

"Yes, just move." He smiles, leaning back into Jorge's chest as he thrusts into him, enjoying the feeling of him being inside him, stars beginning to form in his eyes from the pleasure.

* * *  

Jorge kisses Marc, knotting his hands in his hair, even pulling on it to deepen the kiss. As they break the kiss, they watch each other through hazy eyes, foreheads rest against one another’s as they both breathe heavily.

"You're amazing," Marc mutters.

"Shut up." Jorge laughs, settling into sleep.

"You are." Marc protests. "I feel like this might not be fun on the bike tomorrow."

"Shit! Sorry." Jorge blushes, he'd got so caught in the moment, he'd not even thought about the race tomorrow.

"It's alright. It was worth it."


	9. Chapter 9

“What the fuck happened!?” Jorge exclaims, inspecting the bruises on Marc's face.

 “Some Rossi fans just fucking jumped us.” Alex explains. The older brother takes a seat on the sofa, putting his head in his hands.

 “Fuck them, are you guys okay?” Marc watches Jorge, his face covered with worry.

 “We’ll be fine.” Alex assures, but still groans as he checks his ribs which are beginning to show purple bruises. Marc just sends him a nod, before turning his attention to his lover.

 “Do you want to go to the hospital?”

 “No, Jorge, it’s not as bad as it looks,” he promises. 

“If you’re sure,” Jorge narrows his eyebrows, he doesn’t look fully convinced, “I’m heading out, I’ll be back soon,” Jorge slips his jacket on, a look of determination on his face. Marc knows where this is leading. 

“Please, don’t.” Marc begs, gaining Jorge's attention. 

“What?” 

“I know where you’re going, you’re going to see Vale, but it’s not worth it, please don’t go.”

 “He needs to get his 'fans' to back off you.”

 “I don’t want you to.”

 “Marc.”

 “Stay here. I need you here." Marc begs, and Alex can’t help but feel like he is intruding a moment, as the other men seem to just stare at each other, as if communicating through their minds. “Stay with us - with me.” Jorge sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, wondering how this boy had managed to completely affect his judgements and makes him want to stay.

* * *

"Are you sure you're okay?" Jorge asks, his arm around the back of Marc's neck as he rests on his chest, he strokes his hand through his hair.

"Yeah, it was just a shock, I didn't even see them coming. The team got them off me straight away."

"I wish I was there with you."

"I'm glad you weren't. They probably would have gone for you too."

"Yeah but I would have been there to look after you," he presses a kiss on Marc's head, "at least when you come to Switzerland next week I can keep my eye on you," he grins, before his phone starts to buzz.

_Valentino Rossi calling..._

Jorge sighs, getting up from the sofa. "Sorry, I've got to take this." He makes his way out the motorhome and closes the door behind him,

"Hello?"

"Come and meet me, we need to talk."

"About what?"

"Just come. Yamaha hospitality, five minutes." Jorge huffs, looking back at the door, before shaking his head and making his way to his destination.

* * *

"What do you want?" Jorge crosses his arms, annoyed and desperate to get back to Marc.

"That's no way to greet your teammate."

"Not when his fans just attacked your boyfriend!"

"Your fake boyfriend?"

"It doesn't matter if it's real or not! They attacked him! I don't want to be involved with this anymore!"

"You agreed Jorge!"

"I know but-"

"But what? You've actually fallen in love with him?" Vale shouts, but Jorge just stands there, not knowing what to say and that answers Valentino's question in itself, "you fucking idiot!"

"Don't say anything, Vale. I got your information and now we're done."

"I'm not even nearly done! You just wait until I tell him that this whole relationship was fake." Vale growls. The idea of Valentino being the one to tell Marc doesn’t settle in his stomach, and his heart aches. The thought of the look on Marc's face once he finds out makes him feel physically sick.

"Please don't." Jorge begs, "he's a good person, he doesn't deserve it."

"He's not a good person! He destroyed my championship last year, you think I'm letting him get away with that? No way. It's your fault for messing it up. Not mine. When I tell him the truth, then we'll be done." Valentino spits before storming off. Jorge groans, running a hand over his face. Fuck. He sighs, returning to Marc's motorhome, he figures if it's going to end, he needs to appreciate the time he does have left.

* * *

"Where'd you go?" Marc asks, a sweet smile on his face, his cheek only a little purple. Jorge shakes his head, dismissing it before grabbing him and pushing him up against the wall, pressing his lips hard against Marc's. Trying to show him his feelings through a kiss, desperate for Marc to know he cares.


	10. Chapter 10

"When are you going to tell him?" Jorge mumbles, slumping into the seat beside Valentino.

"Oh, when I want," Valentino teases, "making you wait is fun, your eyes going all crazy whenever bambino and I are in the same room."

"I'll do whatever you want, just don't tell him," Jorge pleads, forehead furrowed.

"Anything...?"

"Just tell me what."

"Mm," Valentino ponders, "Nah. This is better than anything you could possibly do for me." He laughs, before getting up from his seat, but being stopped by Jorge grabbing his arm.

"Valentino." He pouts, "please..."

"Jorge, Jorge.. Even your mouth isn't pretty enough to stop me telling Marc the truth, maybe I'll tell him today, maybe next week, next month even. I'll pick." He snarls, pulling his arm out of Jorge's grip and stomping away, Jorge running his hand over his face, growling at the older man in frustration.

* * *

"Hey babe!" Marc grins, his usual cheery self.

"Babe?" Jorge raises his eyebrows at the nickname.

"You don't like it?"

"No," he scoffs, "I'm not a babe."

"Oh yes, you are!" Marc winks, earning a smile from the Yamaha rider, "oh, so you do know how to smile!"

"I came tenth." Jorge dead pans.

"Which means points... Which Vale didn't get.." Marc reminds him, which widens his smile at little more, but it is hard not to smile around Marc anyway.

"You always make me feel better," Jorge pulls the younger man down to sit on his lap, wrapping his arms around his waist and keeping him close.

"It's what I'm here for." Marc presses a kiss to his temple, putting his arms around Jorge neck and pulling him in for a hug.

"Thank you... Marc?"

"Yes?"

"Don't leave me?"

"I won't. Don't give me a reason to." Marc smiles comfortingly, rubbing his nose against Jorge's.

* * *

"Do you think I could tell Dani about us?"

"What? Why?"

"Valentino knows, and Dani is nice, he won't tell anybody and he would cover for us." Marc explains, knowing his teammate was a genuinely lovely man.

"Valentino doesn't know because we told him though, he saw us but yeah, Dani can know." Jorge tells him, his old fierce rivalry with Dani was now left in the past and he felt honest happiness for Dani when he succeed in races, he was a deserved MotoGP world champion just without the title.

"Good! Because I already told him..." Marc smiles innocently.

"So why did you bother asking?"

"To see if you would be mad!" Jorge laughs at his boyfriend, his youth exposing him sometimes.

"Just ask me if you want to tell anyone else, okay?"

"Like how you asked me if you could tell Rins?"

"I didn't tell, he guessed."

"Small differences," Marc winks, laughing before pressing his lips against Jorge's, still content to celebrate his second place with his grumpy love, "I can't wait to spend a couple of days with you alone next week."

"I think you'll like Switzerland."

"Doubt I'll be seeing much of it if my plan works!"

"Your plan?"

"To spend the whole time in bed with you?"

"Mm, that plan can definitely work." Jorge smirks pulling Marc closer to him, giggling at the squeal that elicits from the Honda rider.

* * *

"See you next week," Lin gives a curt nod to Valentino as the Italian leaves, the team packing up to fly to the next races. Valentino hadn't spoken a word to Jorge all day and Jorge had been glaring at him in return, the waiting and the anticipation of Valentino having the power to ruin his happiness becoming hard to deal with. Jorge wonders how Lin manages to put up with the two of them on the same team.

"What's going on next week?" Jorge asks, curious, whatever it was, Jorge wasn't included and he didn't like that.

"Vale has set up a meeting with Marc to settle their differences once and for all, I'm going to help mediation, I think a couple of the Honda team will be there too..."

"What?!"

"I know, I was surprised too but they need to sort things out right?" Lin gives him a small smile, "see you in Germany, Jorge."

"Goodbye Lin." Jorge's heart sank. Fuck. Vale was going to tell Marc everything, but he just couldn't and wouldn't let him.


	11. Chapter 11

Shit.

Jorge was going to have to tidy up if Marc was coming over tonight. His flight was due to land in an hour or so and he'd sent a car to pick him up.

There were bits and pieces all over the house, a tie here, his jacket there. Deep down, he knew why he needed to hide it all before Marc got there but he didn't want to confess to himself that he actually cared what Marc Marquez thought of his house.

He quickly grabbed a box, placing his mismatched clothes in there, a few embarrassing old pictures and weird stuff he kept around his apartment. He also specifically hid the 'Marc Marquez handbook' Vale had given him all those months ago containing information about Marc Marquez, the man himself. He collected all the items up, closing the box and putting it in the bottom of his closet, as he wondered why on earth he would invite Marc to his place to start with – he rarely ever invited.. lovers.. to his house and why was Marc any different to the others, he wanted this one to be special.

Once he was sure the apartment was clear of anything possibly risky, he decides not to risk giving Marc food poisoning by cooking, so he would just order pizza for them instead, even if it was bending their strict diets a little.

Jorge couldn’t deny he had a fondness for vanilla scented candles, and he prayed to God Marc wouldn’t find it too cheesy as he turned all the lights off and instead lit the candles to give the room a soft glow. Before he could even start an argument with himself, there was a soft knock on the door. He opened it to reveal, of course, Marc, a grin plastered on his cute little face. Jorge felt a blush grace his own cheeks, as Marc surveyed his apartment, with the candles burning, it was all quite romantic. Nobody had ever done anything like this for Marc, and the idea makes his affections a little stronger as each moment went on.

 “It’s lame, isn’t it?” Jorge asks, scratching the back of his neck, resigning himself to defeat.  

“No! It’s great – amazing even.” Marc's smile grew even wider, if that was even possible,

“How can you be such a softie and then deal ride bikes the way you do for a living?” He scoffs. Jorge just shrugs off the question, but there was heat burning at his cheeks.

 “Wanna get pizza?” Jorge asks. 

"Of course, you already know me so well.” Marc places a wet kiss on the boys cheek.

 “Don’t I get a proper kiss?” Jorge pouts. Marc, not wanting to be one to disappoint, smashes his lips onto Jorge's, placing his hands on the other riders hips, and pressing him against the wall. He pushes his tongue into the mans mouth, before trailing kisses down his neck, as Jorge lets out sharp moans. He can feel Marc smiling as he kisses him, and that fact alone makes a warmth spread all over his skin. 

"Bedroom?” Marc asks, breathlessly. Jorge leads him down the hallway to his room, taking the younger boys hand in his own. Jorge pushes Marc down on the sheets, before crawling on top of him, straddling his hips. He strips Marc's shirt off before taking his own off, drawing them both back into the kiss.

Jorge intertwines their fingers placing them above Marc's head, as he grinds on his crotch, and Marc lifts his hips to create even more friction between them. Marc yanks his hands out of Jorge's grip before flipping them over, taking control over the older man. His hands easily find their way to the button of Jorge's jeans, before he pulls them down, followed by his boxers; Marc strips himself down too, desperate to get out of his jeans. 

"Can I-” Before Marc can even finish his sentence, Jorge cuts him off. 

"God, yes, Marc. You don’t need to ask. Do whatever you want to me.” He doesn’t need more of an invitation than that. Marc presses his lips to his blue eyed boy, before turning him over. He grabs some lube from the bedside cabinet, smirking as he saw it and realising Jorge obviously imagined this happening tonight. He coats his fingers before pushing a finger inside Jorge to prep him.

“Another.” Jorge insists, and of course Marc complies as Jorge presses his body down against the white sheets. The moans that are slipping from the man's mouth as Marc fingers him makes Marc doubt how long he will be able to last once he gets inside, "I’m ready,” he insists, Marc slips his fingers out, and grabs a hold of Jorge's ass, replacing his fingers with his cock, thrusting into the older man, his hands rested on his hips. He grins as he takes in the situation, basking in the glory of having Jorge Lorenzo on all fours begging him was definitely a sight to remember.

* * *

“Are you really having a meeting with Valentino next week?” Jorge quizzes, playing with Marc's hair as he lay across his stomach.  

"How did you know that?”

 “Lin told me.” He huffs, a little annoyed that he had to find out this from Lin and not from his own boyfriend. 

"Yeah, I am meeting him.” He confirms. 

"I don’t want you to.” 

“Jorge,“ he sighs, "Vale and I need to put the past behind us.. Start a fresh.”

"I don't think you should go, you know Valentino will just spin his usual words and you'll end up leaving feeling sorry for the guy!" He groans, his fingers stroking Marc's hair a little rougher.

"We're gonna make things better." Marc sits up and moves to sit facing Jorge on his knees.

"Nothing can ever be better when it comes to Vale!" He spits, getting angry and pushing Marc away. 

"Jorge, please. Why are you getting so wound up about this?.” Marc pleads, and reaches out for his lover.

"If you meet Vale, we can't be together.” Jorge states, his heart aching at how true his statement was. He clenches his fists, praying that Marc would pick him over this stupid meeting. He was so frightened of what may happen next week, the thought of never having Marc's touch, or his kiss even again, makes tears well up in his eyes. He should never have gotten so deeply involved in this boy. Jorge just knew if he could talk Marc out of this meeting, he’d at least have a little more time with him before he would find out the truth. 

"Why not? Don’t be like that,” Marc sighs, “This is why I didn’t tell you before. I can still be friends with Vale and be with you. He won't brainwash me. I thought you two were getting along better anyway?"  

“Please just don't go. For me." Jorge begs, pouting.

 “Okay. I won’t go.” The black haired boy tells him, “If it makes you happy, I won’t go.” He confirms before pressing his lips into Jorge's neck, and relief floods the boys body, as he realises it won’t be Marc he’ll be losing next week, he presses his body closer to Marc's. 

"Thank you.” the blue eyed boy kisses Marc's nose and grins, "it does make me happy."

"That's all I want, for you to be happy." The Honda rider smiles before moving back to his previous position, resting his head on Jorge's stomach as he runs his fingers through Marc's hair.

"That's all I want for you too," Jorge promises, "I wish we could go for dinner or something but people would see us..."

"People know we're friends..."

"I'd want to hold your hand in front of everyone," he says as he takes a hold of Jorge's hand and plays with it in his own, "could we do that one day?"

"We haven't talked about that, have we?"

"No," Marc sighs, "I'm sorry if you don't want to talk about it but I want us to be long term," he speaks honesty.

"So do I." Jorge promises.

"So when do you think you'd be ready?"

"After I retire?" Jorge pretends to ignore the flash of disappointment that crosses Marc's face,

"That could be ten years."

"Okay, then.. when we get married." Jorge teases. Marc shoots up from his position, and looks at Jorge in surprise.

"You think about that? Us getting married?" Marc grins, holding onto Jorge's hand. He'd meant it as a lighthearted joke, but he'd guessed yeah, he had thought about it a little.

"Sure, sometimes." Jorge's face turns a shade of pink as his cheeks heat up.

"I do too sometimes. One day, yeah?"

"One day." Jorge dreams, and is pulled in for a kiss before being squeezed into a tight, happy hug.  

"Do you mind if I take a shower before dinner?” Marc asks, removing himself from the other man. 

"Sure, _babe_.” He jokes and places another quick kiss on his lips, "I'm going to have a nap. I'm not as young as you. I need a little more recovery time." He hears Marc laugh before feeling his eyes drifting, close to sleep, listening to the shower running.


	12. Chapter 12

“Jorge?” Jorge wakes to see his brown haired lover sitting over him, his eyes watery and bloodshot, from what he’d guessed was tears. He’d never heard his name being said in such a broken tone before.  

“What’s going on?” Jorge asks, disorientated from his sleep; he is wanted to cry too, just from seeing this expression on Marc's face. In the boy’s lap lay the notes and facts he had hidden, the ones that Vale had investigated and written about Marc.

 “I was trying to find some clothes to wear to bed, and I found this in your closet,” He explains, “You’re a fucking liar.” Jorge can see the younger boys sadness turn into anger and bitterness before him. “When were you going to tell me? You and Valentino have been cooking up this plan, eh?” He shouts, pushing Jorge in the chest, and throwing the papers off the bed and on to the floor. “You kissed me, you fucked me in this bed, and what as a game?!” Jorge reaches out to him, but Marc flinches away, which leads to tears building up in Jorge's eyes. "Is that all this was to you?"

 “I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. I didn't want to hurt you,” Jorge sighs, “I never meant to get so involved with you. It was just supposed to be friends."

 “What the fuck? What were you and Valentino trying to achieve by this?" Marc exclaims, he runs his hand through his hair, more tears filling his eyes.

 “I was trying to get close to you to get into your head and getting some of your data... I'm sorry!” Jorge begs, nothing else was left to say. 

“Well it worked, you're in my head. I am fucking in love you. You made me fall in love with you.” His voice sounds weak, and sad, and it makes Jorge's heart hurt just hearing it, this isn't the way he wanted those words to be said, “You just said you wanted to marry me... And it was all just a complete lie.” He crumbles. 

"It wasn’t, I love you too." Jorge pleads, making grabby hands to stop his love from moving away from him.

"Seriously, fuck you Jorge. I should have known better than to love you at all." Marc sobs, getting off the bed and getting dressed again as quickly as possible.

"Marc..."

"I think you've said enough."

"I haven't. I made a mistake agreeing to it, yeah, I shouldn't have but then I actually got to know you, not just the crazy rider that I race on Sunday's but the real you. And I love you now, completely."

"I don't believe anything that you say, Jorge. Don't talk to me ever again," he shouts, "just stay away from me." Marc storms out the room and out of the apartment, slamming the door behind himself.

* * *

_Jorge calling..._

_Jorge calling..._

_Missed calls (12)_

_Jorge: Let me explain_

_Jorge: come back!_

_Jorge calling..._

_Jorge: I'm so sorry. This isn't what I wanted._

_Jorge: I love you!_

_Jorge calling..._

_Jorge: I'm sorry. Come back and I will show you, I haven't lied. Not about how I feel about you._

_Missed calls (22)_

* * *

Jorge was moping. He realised that it was obvious this whole thing was going to blow up in his face but it still hurt, it hurt that he couldn't call Marc his anymore. That was the most bitter pill to swallow. He could barely sleep after Marc had left, so he'd resolved that he'd run on his treadmill until he felt like sleeping but that time never came.

He was wired, it was 2pm and he'd had half and hours sleep and about four bottles of beer. It had felt even worse when he realised he'd been drinking Marc's favourite beer as he brought it in specifically for Marc's visit, and the scent in the air was purely that perfume that Marc liked so much because he'd sprayed it everywhere before the man had arrived. Of course, sat on the table in front of him was Marc's favourite book, he'd brought it so he could read it and understand why Marc had loved it so much. His home was full of Marc, yet not the man himself.


	13. Chapter 13

Lin noticed the tension in the room the second he entered. Valentino was sat across the table from Marc and Santi. The Yamaha rider looked tense, almost staring down the other rider, Lin took his seat beside his rider. Now he was opposite him, he took a closer look at Marc, his eyes were red and bloodshot, and he looked as if he hadn't slept all week. He looked so sad.

Jorge had been calling and messaging Marc all week, but he hadn't replied to anything, he wanted to talk to Vale, to hear the story from his mouth.

"You knew. You planned it all." Marc was the first to speak, it was through gritted teeth, "so tell me the truth about what happened."

"You ruined my championship," Valentino laughed bitterly, "you deserved it, Jorge and I had to work together because I knew you would doubt me." Lin furrowed his forehead, what on earth did Jorge have to do with this?

"You ruined it all on your own, you didn't have the right to get someone to break my heart," Marc sobbed, tears coming to his eyes.

"It wasn't the plan at first," he grins, "he was just supposed to be your friend, when I found out you made a move on him - ha! - it was perfect! I don't usually rate Jorge, you know that, but this was his most genius idea." He mocks the younger driver, enjoying the tears starting to flow down his cheeks, "to be honest I didn't even know Jorge could be your type." Marc takes a deep breath.

"You're not even sorry?"

"Of course I'm not sorry, my plan worked perfectly, but it was not me who hurt you, it was Jorge. He is the one who pretended to love you, not me."

"Well I know the truth now, we'll never make amends, you obviously never wanted to, and neither do I. I'm done." He sighs, pushing his chair back and wiping at his tears before leaving the room, Santi following close behind.

"What was that?" Lin asks.

"Jorge pretended to get closer to him, we got their data, and mess with the kid..."

"And Jorge just was fine with this...?"

"Ha - no, that's the best part. Jorge loves him, he's fallen for him and was trying to get me not to tell Marc, so I get to take down Jorge and Marc at the same time, wonderful no?" Vale grins, Lin rolls his eyes at his rider. He'd always wondered what went on inside that brain of his and now he was a little scared to know.

* * *

"Hey Marc!" Santi grabs the arm of his rider to stop him walking away, "wait up, why didn't you tell me about this before?"

"It's embarrassing." Marc pouts, and Santi notes he looks a lot younger than his years, "I gave myself to somebody completely and they made a joke of me. He was going behind my back and laughing about our relationship with Valentino. It really hurts, Santi." Marc can feel tears coming again. He was surprised he even had enough tears left to keep crying. Santi lets out a heavy sigh and pulls his rider into a tight hug.

 "Marc..." The Honda pair split to see Lin stood in front of them, Marc rolls his eyes. What now?

"Yeah?" He sniffs.

"I'm sorry about him. He takes things too personally, you must know that by now... But I know you're not really upset about Vale are you? It's about Jorge... But he... He's not like Vale, he's not that good at hiding his real feelings; if he said he loves you then he does."

"Why are saying this?"

"Because I haven't spoken to him but I bet if you're like this, then he is too. Just talk to him, Valentino said something interesting after you left."

"What did he say?"

"Just talk to Jorge."


	14. Chapter 14

"Marc," Jorge's voice croaks as he speaks his name, surprised to see the subject of his heartbreak standing on his doorstep, "What are you doing here?"

"I want you to explain."

"Of course, of course, come in..." Marc trails in after Jorge, shivers running down his spine as he thinks about the last time he was in Jorge's home, "do you want, er, tea?"

"No, thanks." Both riders could feel the thick tension in the room, it made them both frown. The thrill of what once was, now gone, "I spoke to Valentino, he was an asshole as usual, and Lin was there too. He told me to talk to you, that's why I'm here. He said you're not like Valentino... That you show your real feelings. So..?"

"I'm not like him at all. Everything I said before was completely true. I was going to start a friendship with you to get at you, it was Valentino's idea, after what happened last year. But then.. When you kissed me, I felt something, something real. And I felt guilt. I know I had so many chances to tell you but I didn't and that's my fault. I take the blame. But when I say I love you, I mean it."

"It's hard to know if anything you say is true."

"Do you actually think that I would let someone fuck me for a joke? You think I would talk about marrying someone I didn't care about?" Jorge pouts, his heart sinking knowing that the man he loved would think that little of him.

"You were trying to mess with me, how do I know how far you would go?"

"Because you know me, after all we've discussed, how can you think that of me? You know me more than most of my friends do, I trusted you completely."

"I trusted you completely too but you broke that trust, don't you get that?"

"Yes, I do, but think about the times that we have spent together; would I really act the way I have if I wasn't completely in love with you? I'm so in love with you, Marc. I don't know what else I can do to show you I do, I just need you to believe me. Now I've had you, I don't know how to be without you."

"I want to believe you."

"Then do. Just say you do," he pleads, "I'll beg, I'm not ashamed to beg for you, I'll do all I can to make it up to you." Jorge gets onto his knees in front of Marc, taking his hands in his. Marc lifts his hands to place them on either side of Jorge's face; who takes the opportunity to turn his head and place chaste kisses on the palms of both Marc's hands.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"So let's be together and piss Valentino off more than ever by being happy and proving he cannot get to us."

"Yeah." Marc shakes his head, "let's fucking destroy him and make sure he never ever gets that tenth title."

"Yeah?" Jorge smirks.

"Yeah."

"God, I love you." He grins, pulling him in for a kiss, settling his hands on bare skin as he slides his hands up Marc's shirt to rest on his waist.

"I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lost inspiration for this story, I'll admit, but I wanted to finish it so.. Done!


End file.
